I was driving through one of the most famous highways in my city. It was late, but despite the time, I could still sight many cars at the distance. "Where are they coming back from?", I thought, while a rock song broke the dread silence in the car. Some of them were probably coming back from a very great party, others, were maybe coming back from a horrid place which made them feel like intruders.

I kept driving as I fought the urge to close my eyes and just sleep. Part of me actually wanted to do that, part of me wanted to succumb to the little voice inside my head. Maybe I should just give it all up and let myself go to another place where I could perhaps breathe and feel safe. However, the traffic lights constantly hit me in the eyes, waking me up from the momentary trance. I slapped my cheeks while I told myself to quit being stupid.

Twenty minutes later, I parked my dirty car in my garage and though I should get out of it to turn the book's leaf and end the day, I decided to sit there for a few minutes and stare at the infinite while I let the cold evening air fill in my lungs as if I were being purified. Then, as a dying person, I dragged myself inside the house, not bothering to turn the lights on. In that night, not even the darkness bothered me anymore, for some reason, I just didn't feel like myself.

I walked up the stairs to my bedroom, and without changing my clothes, I just let my body fall down on the mattress, and as I buried my head in the silky pillow, some fragments from that evening started to pop up in my head. I'd had a great night, but as I lay there and was eaten up by the darkness of my bedroom, I felt empty, cold, lonely, sad. Why?